A Protector From The Shadows
by Funky-Skiz-Taboo
Summary: This is a text intervention from Boo Radley's POV. Set between Nathan cementing the tree and the Fire across the street from the Finch house.


**A PROTECTOR FROM THE SHADOWS**

WRITTEN BY LEANNE NOLAN

Why is it that family are the ones who hurt you the most? They are the ones who think it's for the best, when they don't understand what it is like standing in your shoes. They don't see what you see. They don't understand your thoughts and feelings. They just do what they think is right.

'Go to bed Arthur. Remember, you don't belong in that world.' The sullen voice of my brother stung through my ears as it does every time he tells me this. I remained quiet recalling the little ones' faces as they realised they had lost their treasure chest in the old tree.

'It was for the best' he told me as he placed a blanket on my lap and walked out the front door. I stared out the window from my usual armchair and watched as the children outside ran up to my brother, asking him why the hole in the tree was filled in.

'Tree's dying' I heard him say. 'You plug 'em up with cement when they're sick.'

I watched the upset children walk off to meet their father, possible to ask him his thoughts on sick trees. Why does he do this to me? Whenever I have any involvement with these children my brother keeps me away.

'You frighten them' He would say. 'They don't want to see a monster. Besides, those children have enough to worry about what with their father defending that rapist nigger down yonder.'

Tom Robinson. The man who supposedly raped Mayella Ewell. A man with a good heart like me.

I yawned. The sun was slowly setting on another day. Another day where the people of Maycomb went about their business. To some it was just another day; to others, like Mr Finch, everyday was another battle of social justice.

Just as I fell into a light sleep my brother abruptly awoke me.

'Get up Arthur. We must move.'

I stood slowly, looking out the window into the smoky orange sky. It couldn't be morning already. Could it?

'It's a fire. At Miss Maudie's. Come along now. Hurry.'

I picked up the blanket I had wrapt around me thinking how cold it must be outside. I watched as my brother ran ahead, joining the men rescuing furniture out of the blazing house. I looked around the street, watching the commotion with morbid fascination.

'Looks like a pumpkin,' I heard a small voice nearby say.

I looked towards our front gate and saw the two Finch children watching the fire. I was relieved to see that, even though they were freezing, they were at least safe.

The fire blazed on, burning the once floral and cheery home into black dreary ash. The men were doing their best to rescue Miss Maudie's possessions. I noticed Atticus talking to Miss Maudie, keeping a watchful eye over his children. It dawned on me that those imaginative children were the source that kept Atticus going. The source that kept his spirit up in the toughest of times.

'See Scout, Atticus ain't worried yet. Look down yonder. He's talking to Miss Maudie.

'Why ain't he on top of the houses with the rest of 'em?' Scout asked trying to keep herself warm.

'He's too old,' Jem had said. He wrapped his arms around Scout to try and keep her warm. Scout shrugged him off and started to jump up and down instead. What a strange child she was. She would do everything herself if she could.

I looked down at the blanket I was clutching. Scout was such an innocent child; full of understanding and hope. The next few months were going to be hell for both the Finch children. Their father couldn't possibly protect them from everything. Society will never accept the children of a supposed 'nigger lover'.

I looked over at Mr Finch. He caught my eye. A nod from him was all I needed. Acceptance. That's what that man does. He believes everyone is equal. He won't be able to protect his children at all times. But I can. And I will.

I slowly walked over to Scout, keeping to all the shadows in the yard. I took a good look at the two children and softly wrapped my blanket around Scout's shoulders. Back into the shadow and darkness I crept. Back where 'Boo Radley' supposedly belongs.

I took one good look back at the Finch children and I made a silent pact. I would never kill a mockingbird for that is a terrible sin that no man should ever commit, but if a man attempts to hurt one I would gladly take his life. 'Cos all a mocking bird does is make songs for us to hear, and the Finch children. Well. What was their crime?

I hope you liked this story. Please leave a review.

Leanne


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